


Something Feline This Way Comes

by LavernaG



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Friendship, HEX - Freeform, Humor, Weasley twins, hogwarts staff - Freeform, jinx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavernaG/pseuds/LavernaG
Summary: It seems a hex is making Minerva McGonagall act more like a cat than she ought to. And it's starting to annoy some of her colleagues. Two-Shot.
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall & Severus Snape
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Double, Double Toil and Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> I truly adore all the stories out there about the Hogwarts staff getting up to different manners of mischief. So I decided to make my little contribution, too. This story will feature most of the Hogwarts staff but I guess it focuses on Minerva, Severus and Albus. (As if I could ever write a story for this fandom without these three!) This takes place sometime in the 90s but I have taken the liberty of not mentioning any Defence Against the Dark Arts professors, just so you can imagine this taking place in your favourite year of the storyline.
> 
> This turned out longer than I expected, so it's going to have two chapters instead of just one.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and please leave a comment if you do! :)

It's usually not long until the teachers catch on when the Weasley twins have come up with a new potion or hex. It takes even less time for the students to become aware of this delightful fact, but it is hardly usual for them to take matters into their own hands and alter the hex to their liking. That would be the case, however, on one seemingly rather ordinary Saturday morning in October when a not-at-all-suspicious wand from the Slytherin table levitated a tiny purple pellet towards the Head Table and let it drop, unnoticed, into the rivalling house's Head's teacup.

Severus Snape was no exception to the rest of the professors. He was involved in a lively conversation with Madam Hooch, which in itself was already quite out of the ordinary, and was therefore not aware of the unexpected addition to his colleague's morning tea. He did occasionally peek through the black curtain of his hair at the other staff members and caught glimpses of their most ordinary breakfast routines.

Pomona was cheerfully prattling on about the plants that had poked their noses out of the soil in her newly warmed greenhouse. Madam Pomfrey offered her a toast with jam to make sure her friend didn't forget to eat. Aurora Sinistra was sharing her edition of _The Quibbler_ with professor Vector, while Charity Burbage tried to make herself as little as possible between the two witches and at the same time tinker with some strange Muggle contraption in her hands. Hagrid was happily sharing his breakfast with four owls, who had decided that their morning mail delivery service had earned them special treatment from the kind half-giant. Cuthbert and Sybill were not present, obviously. Filius was engrossed in a conversation with the Headmaster, one that had also included the Head of Gryffindor until the witch decided to return her attention to her rapidly cooling breakfast.

Severus did not consider himself nosy or too observant of a person—not more than was required in his profession, at least. But he couldn't help thinking he saw a fleeting grimace of disgust on the older professor's face before she abandoned her teacup on the table. Severus was positive she didn't touch it for the rest of the morning.

His conversation with Rolanda had died down after they had established that the last match of the Magpies had indeed been a bitter disappointment. Now that the younger witch had turned her attention to one of Hagrid's owls pecking confidently at her sandwich, Severus could finally have his breakfast in peace. Or at least he thought so until a swift fork poked at one of the sausages on his plate and retreated just as quickly, dragging its prey along with it. Severus's head snapped up and he stared incredulously at the witch sitting next to him. Minerva had closed her eyes in obvious, nearly indecent pleasure and was munching on something; the stolen sausage lay on her plate now. With a great effort Severus schooled his dumbfounded expression again and attempted to glare at the woman. She didn't seem to mind in the slightest, and as if this were not enough, Severus thought he heard her humming—no, purring!—with delight.

With a deeply disturbed feeling in his gut, Severus pushed his chair to his right, dragging his plate and coffee cup along. He would be sitting acutely close to Madam Hooch now but for once he didn't mind his students peeking up at him at the Head Table and sniggering. Anything not to get infected by the unexplainable whim that had made Minerva act in such an outrageous way.

Once she had swallowed, Minerva opened her eyes and raised a curious eyebrow at Severus's new position. Immediately after she frowned at the sausage on her plate as if she didn't remember snatching it from the Potions Master. He saw her straightening her back and realised only now that a moment earlier she hadn't looked quite as stern as she always did.

Seated at a safe distance, Severus finished his breakfast unhurriedly and, when he stood, willed himself not to look at the Gryffindor Head of House again. He strode out of the Great Hall in his naturally brisk pace, thinking he saw a few of the students' heads turn his way but deciding to ignore them. When he reached the corridor, however, he was surprised by an abrupt tug at his robes that he had thought were billowing behind him quite impressively. Not so much because he actually cared if a student had dared to stop him to ask him for something but rather for the thrill of giving them a scare, Severus turned around—and glared down at the grey tabby cat sitting on the tail of his robes. The cat held his gaze bravely and flicked her ear.

"This is hardly the sort of behaviour I would expect from you, professor," Severus sneered as if he were speaking to a child. The cat merely pawed at the black fabric. The Potions Master's upper lip twitched in annoyance and he jerked his robe free from underneath the small animal. Minerva stumbled onto the stone floor, thus breaking their impromptu staring contest. Severus turned on his heel and marched in the direction of the dungeons, muttering to himself about the fateful effects of Scottish Firewhiskey.

* * *

When Albus Dumbledore returned to his office after breakfast, he knew instantly that there was someone else in there with him. Fawkes was, of course, sitting, regal as ever, on his perch next to the Headmaster's desk and chirped happily at the sight of his wizard. What caught Albus's eye, however, was the familiar tabby cat crouching behind his perch and looking ready to pounce on the large bird.

"I can promise you he won't take kindly to being knocked off his perch," he said calmly and at the same moment the cat jumped; but, distracted by the old wizard's voice, she hit the perch and dropped back onto the parquet. Fawkes gave a short screech of disapproval and tapped his feet on the perch as he settled back into a comfortable position.

Aware that his deputy didn't enjoy being picked up, although Albus had been wanting to do just that from the first time he'd seen her transform, the old wizard stepped around his desk and took a seat, all the while watching his friend with light-hearted amusement. The cat had, naturally, landed on her feet, and after pacing back and forth next to the phoenix's perch a couple of times, possibly wondering if it was worth it to make another attempt, she made a peculiar noise that resembled sneezing and shook her head. Then she jumped onto the Headmaster's desk and landed, light as a feather, on his unfinished letter to the Ministry.

Albus's eyes twinkled behind his half-moon shaped spectacles when he watched the tabby trying to read his slanting handwriting upside-down. "What can I do for you, my dear?" he asked warmly and Minerva looked up at him with her big curious eyes. "I can't believe you came here to see Fawkes and not me," he added in a playful tone of disappointment.

The tabby circled the top of his desk briefly before stretching leisurely and lying down on the parchments. Albus raised an eyebrow at her unexpected behaviour, watching the cat get comfortable on his documents. He reached out, trying to pull one of them out from underneath her, but Minerva pawed at his hand gently, in the old wizard's opinion, telling him to stop.

"Minerva, I do need to send out these letters," he mentioned carefully. The only reaction he got was one of the cat's paws reaching out and pulling a quill closer to her—then she started nibbling on the feather. Albus couldn't help chuckling at the unusual but ever so endearing sight. He weighed his options for a long minute and eventually came to the conclusion that it really wouldn't hurt to postpone his work just this once. He rested his elbow on the desk, his head in his hand, and reached out with his other hand to pet the resting tabby. To his utter surprise and delight, Minerva purred happily.

* * *

The moment Rolanda Hooch heard a noise from inside her broom closet, she was certain one of the Bludgers had gotten loose again. That did happen sometimes and no number of Binding spells could prevent it. With her wand raised, Rolanda approached the broom closet, but what she found once she opened the door was not quite what she had been expecting.

An extremely familiar grey tabby cat was sitting on the floor of the closet, poised as ever and staring the witch down as if she was invading the cat's privacy and should explain herself on the spot. A Snitch's golden wing was flapping helplessly on either side of the animal's closed mouth.

* * *

Pomona was ecstatic, there was no point in denying it. Not only had the all of the new seeds she had acquired from Diagon Alley in September sprouted but they had done so in the corner of her greenhouse she had used an experimental heating spell on. Filius had been most helpful with it; she had decided he would be the first one she'd invite to smell the plants once they started blossoming. She reckoned they could use the blossoms as Christmas decorations, since it was really the roots Pomona was after.

She had declared at breakfast that she intended to spend the whole day in her greenhouses and would appreciate not being disturbed for once. Dear Poppy had insisted she'd bring her lunch, but the grey tabby Pomona was looking at was most definitely not their school matron.

"You know I'm always happy to see you, Minerva," she said, digging her fingers into the large pot she was going to replant one of her Screaming Serpent Vines in, "but unless you have an overwhelming desire to be screeched at by an adolescent tree, I suggest you return to the castle."

She got the impression that the cat wasn't listening to her at all. Instead she had jumped onto a shelf and prowled between some pots until she reached a little pot Pomona remembered planting a Muggle herb in. Minerva sniffed the plant briefly and knocked the pot over.

"Hey!" Pomona cried out in slight annoyance. It wasn't as if this plant was terribly important to her or that there wasn't already mud all over the floor of the greenhouse, but the poor herb had hardly deserved this kind of treatment. Minerva nibbled at the leaves of the old plant and even from her position across the aisle between the plant rows Pomona could hear a loud and pleased purr.

This wasn't like Minerva at all. The Gryffindor might not have been the greatest Herbology enthusiast Pomona had ever known, but she did have some respect for her friend's workplace. And Minerva had never once purred when Pomona had petted her—and she had tried to get her to many times!

Slowly Pomona shook her head in bewilderment and tried to concentrate on the new bed for her Serpent Vine. From the corner of her eye she could see Minerva swaying on the spot with her eyes closed in bliss. Suddenly Pomona remembered what the herb was called—catnip! What a fitting name it seemed to be right about now!

Everyone she'd ever met considered Pomona a patient and cheery witch, and she hardly ever had any reason to prove them wrong. Of course, people didn't usually come pestering her on a Saturday morning when she was busy with her new and exciting plants. If Minerva had sat still and avoided disturbing her, Pomona wouldn't even have minded her company all that much.

But as it so happened, for some reason, Minerva was not being herself today—a fact proven once again when Pomona turned to retrieve her fluffy pink earmuffs from one of her cupboards and heard a loud shattering noise from behind her. The Hufflepuff spun around and found the tabby sitting where only a moment ago a row of empty pots had been standing on the shelf. She turned her head away innocently and licked her left front paw.

Pomona was rendered completely speechless for a moment. But when Minerva stood and started making her silent and stealthy way towards the newly-sprouted row of plants on that same shelf, the chubby Hufflepuff shot forward. Without cleaning her hands from the soil, she grabbed hold of the tabby and picked her up. The cat, in return, let out a loud and displeased meow.

"I've had quite enough of you getting high on my plants for the day," Pomona declared as she carried the squirming cat to the greenhouse door. "I don't know what's gotten into you all of a sudden, but I'd be grateful if you found someone else to bug."

Gently she dropped her friend onto the grass outside and retreated into the greenhouse before she could follow her. With a sigh of relief, Pomona counted her young seedlings and flicked her wand to clean up the shattered pots Minerva had knocked onto the floor. She had never been any good at holding grudges; already she was inclined to whistle a happy tune as she returned to her Screaming Serpent Vine.

* * *

"Oy, what's the matt'r, Fang? Who'd ya see there?" Hagrid asked when his dog raised his head and made a whining sound. Soon enough, the wizard saw the reason for his mellow friend's agitation. An agile cat had jumped down from the windowsill and was now walking towards the two of them, wagging her tail at the old dog.

"Profess'r McGonagall, ma'am!" he recognised the animal jovially and gave a slight nod of respect. Ignoring the man, the tabby stopped in front of the dog and glared at him. The gentle dog turned his head to the side immediately, allowing Minerva the pleasure of a small victory. "What can I do fer ya, profess'r?" Hagrid asked, reaching over and patting Fang's head to assure him that he still considered him the greatest watchdog anyone could ever wish for. "Did profess'r Dumbledore, sir, send fer me?"

The cat looked up at him but Hagrid didn't think she had been paying attention to his words. Instead Minerva smelled the air and a ravenous glint appeared in her eyes.

Hagrid chuckled and stood up from his chair. "I guess ya can smell we were fishin' this mornin'?" he said and stepped over into the kitchen corner of his hut. When he turned back, he found that the cat had already jumped up onto the table and was licking her fangs hungrily. "Haven't 'ad time to clean 'em yet, but if ya'd like one, here ya go."

Hagrid watched, contented, as the little tabby lunged at the raw fish he'd placed on a plate in front of her. And he forgot to notice that this was not the way his stern friend usually behaved.

* * *

Cuthbert Binns had seen a great many things in his life and also in his afterlife. But a cat jumping straight through him—that was a first. The little animal appeared quite disorientated when she drew herself up to her full height and checked under her paws to see if she had caught even a fragment of the floating silvery professor. She looked positively crushed when she realised she hadn't managed to seize anything. Before long Cuthbert continued along the corridor and only when he'd already floated through the next wall did he get the notion that that cat had looked somewhat familiar to him.

* * *

The Inner Eye had told her that she would be receiving an unusual visitor this day, but Sybill had been hoping for someone a little more talkative than a cat. Generally she had nothing against these creatures—in the past some of them had proven tremendously helpful for assisting Seers in divination. However, this one, unfortunately, didn't seem to be interested in the tea leaves Sybill tried to show her and was even less impressed by the Seer's crystal ball. All the feline did seem to care about was her cushioned chair—or more specifically, the destruction of it.

"Would you please stop ruining my favourite chair, little dear?" Sybill asked gently as the tabby pulled her claws across the purple fabric. The Seer ran her bony fingers through the cat's soft fur, hoping it would distract the little animal. The cat didn't seem to mind her touch but dug her nails into the fabric anyway and pulled out long threads.

Sybill frowned slightly when it became evident the cat was determined to damage her chair beyond repair. "That's enough of that now," she said firmly but not unkindly, and without further ado, picked the tabby up. She clung on to the fabric with her claws and let out an irritated growl when Sybill yanked her free. "Why don't I show you my Tarot cards instead, hmm? I'm sure they are much more interesting for an intelligent little kitten like yourself," she murmured against the cat's head when she pulled her close to herself.

The tabby meowed her disapproval loudly, pressing her paws against the Seer's chest. Startled when ten tiny claws curled into her skin, Sybill dropped the cat with a feeble yelp. The cat caught herself on the silken tablecloth laid over the stand supporting Sybill's crystal ball. The poor witch staggered forward to catch the ball before it could fall onto the floor or, worse, on top of the cat's head. The latter fixed the Seer with a contemptuous glare, as if Sybill had tried to murder her just now, and wagging her tail, marched towards the trapdoor leading out of the Divination classroom.

An unusual visitor, indeed. Just before the tabby disappeared from her view, Sybill thought she saw a glimpse of a dark-haired man grabbing the cat and helping her down the ladder that led down from the trapdoor. Dismissing the image as a trick of light rather than a vague vision, Sybill dropped into her chair and rubbed her fingers over the short claw marks on her chest.

* * *

At first Aurora Sinistra couldn't be certain she wasn't dreaming. It had happened before, her dozing off at day-time—after all, most of her classes were taught during the night and sleeping patterns were a concept quite alien to her. But most of her dreams consisted of animate Zodiac signs and sparkling mooncakes, and most emphatically not Minerva McGonagall chasing a ball of yarn down a Hogwarts staircase.

A fifth-year Ravenclaw dashed around the corner and down the stairs, calling after the tabby, "Please stop! I need that yarn to finish my baby brother's socks."

Aurora quickened her step, approaching the staircase. She saw the girl crouching on the landing below the stairs, and when she reached the landing herself, noticed what had stopped her. Minerva had rolled herself onto her back and was playing with the ball of yarn, pawing at it happily and throwing it in the air above her head. The Ravenclaw giggled and reached down to retrieve the yarn, only to be kicked gently by the cat, who wasn't ready to be relieved of her toy just yet.

The Astronomy professor was shocked by her usually strict colleague's behaviour. She squatted down next to Minerva and whispered sharply, "What are you doing?" The cat looked at her curiously and caught a thread of yarn in her mouth. "You're making a spectacle of yourself, Minerva," Aurora warned her, wondering if the young girl had recognised her Transfiguration professor.

"Is this your cat, professor?" Aurora's musings were answered instantly.

"No," she answered flatly, grabbing the ball and untangling Minerva's claws from the yarn. "If she were," Aurora continued, frowning when the relentless tabby held on to the yarn with her teeth, "she wouldn't be behaving like an imprudent child." She lost her balance and fell onto her behind when Minerva finally let go and hissed at the younger professor.

"Thanks so much, professor," the Ravenclaw said when Aurora handed her the ball of yarn, and helped her teacher up from the floor. "Although I feel kind of sorry for her," she added, watching the cat look around herself in dismay. "She seemed to really like my yarn."

"I'm sure," Aurora snapped, "that she will find some other means to entertain herself."

* * *

"Minerva McGonagall!" Poppy shrieked in surprise, pressing her hand to her heart. "Put that down at once!"

The grey tabby tilted her head in confusion.

"Don't you know how many diseases these little rodents can carry? Spit it out," she demanded, pointing a stern finger at the tabletop upon which her friend was sitting.

Minerva tilted her head the other way and the look in her eyes became pleading.

"Now."

Disappointed, she lowered her head and softly laid the mouse she had caught down in front of her. She nudged it with her nose and the mouse squeaked in fright, teetering a few steps away from the feline. Intrigued, Minerva jumped after it and nudged it again. This time the mouse ran straight towards the school matron and Poppy stopped it, pointing her wand at the little creature and uttering a charm. She levitated it away from Minerva, who had pounced on it again, and dropped it into a large jar. The tabby wailed at her when she picked up the jar, thinking she ought to take it to the Owlery.

"Really, Minerva," Poppy muttered, shaking her head. Her friend padded across her desk, sniffed an open bottle of Pepper-Up potion, shuddered and jumped off the desk.

* * *

Severus had hoped he had managed to escape the Transfiguration professor's peculiar antics for the day. _Escape_ , perhaps, wasn't the right word, but it had unnerved him more than he had cared to admit to himself when the colleague he respected the most—excluding the Headmaster, of course—had started behaving like a silly, irresponsible schoolgirl. That was another word he wouldn't have used anywhere except for the privacy of his own mind. _Girl_ was the last word anyone would have ever used to describe the straight-backed, tight-lipped, strict Head of Gryffindor, the powerful and highly respectable witch… who was currently sitting on his shoulder. With her front paws positioned on the Potions Master's head, the grey tabby watched him stirring a large copper cauldron full of dark blue liquid.

She had entered his office without making a sound and he had only been made aware of her presence by the light tap of her feet on his shoulder as she landed there. Severus had barely been able to keep himself from starting at the unexpected touch, but he prided himself on not even twitching. He tried to keep very still, nevertheless, because the last thing he wanted to do was to drop the little creature on his shoulder into the cauldron, and he couldn't break his concentration.

"Minerva, I am busy," he stated flatly, not once losing count of his counter-clockwise stirs. At stir number forty eight he added a pinch of ground salamander skin and started stirring the concoction the other way. The tabby on his shoulder watched him in silence for a little while and then very gingerly climbed over to his other shoulder, from where she jumped onto the table in front of him.

Severus gritted his teeth in suspense as Minerva carefully stepped over the ingredients left on the table, skilfully avoiding each one of them, and jumped onto the shelves on the wall next to the table. She stole along one of the higher shelves' edges gracefully, gliding out of Severus's view.

"If you break anything," he warned in a dangerous tone, his hostility prompted merely by the awareness of having an animal traipsing around amongst his carefully brewed potions, "I swear I will smack you like a common cat, whether you decide to return to your human form or not."

For a whole minute he didn't hear a sound from behind himself and he finished stirring his potion with the uneasy apprehension that any moment now he would hear some of his potions being knocked onto the stone floor. But nothing of the sort happened, and Severus dropped the last two ingredients—the chopped-up bark of a Whomping Willow and five and a half Hydra-Dragonfly's wings—into the cauldron. They would have to boil along with the rest of the potion for another ten minutes before he had to start stirring again.

With ample time on his hands Severus turned around, his eyes scanning his large office for the cat. For an instant he thought Minerva had left, but before relief could settle in, he found her—and not in a very likely place, either. The tabby had climbed into the large glass jar the Potions Master had intended to pour the fresh potion into once it was finished. Severus raised his eyebrow in equal annoyance and surprise and peeked into the jar.

"I need this jar, Minerva," he told the cat inside, which only made her shift slightly in the jar and look up at the Potions Master with a glint in her large green eyes that the young wizard could only describe as cheeky. "I am serious," he insisted, wondering if the cat would scratch him if he tried to reach for her. "How did you even get in there?"

The tabby replied with a soft, innocent meow and Severus was, for some ridiculous reason, momentarily tempted to look for another jar for his potion. He shook his head once to rid himself of the thought and abruptly decided to take his chances and reach into the jar. This time with an actual start he felt Minerva pressing her cool little nose against his hand. He watched through the glass as she started rubbing her cheek against his fingers, as if inviting him to pet her. Astonished, Severus, who in her human form hadn't so much as brushed against Minerva's hand during one of their frequent chess matches, hesitantly started caressing the tabby cat's head. Minerva purred with contentment, her breath leaving a faint mist on the inside of the glass. Severus gently scratched behind the cat's ears, unintentionally allowing his expression to soften just a little.

In a moment of distraction, Severus glanced at the clock on his writing desk and was acutely reminded of the potion still simmering in the cauldron next to him. It was obvious he would need a new jar because, surprisingly, he didn't feel he had the heart to grab Minerva McGonagall by the scruff and drag her out of the jar. With an unreasoning pang of reluctance Severus pulled his hand out of the jar and away from the feline. Even before the cat had realised what had happened, the Potions Master turned sharply and crouched down at a nearby cupboard in search for another container for his potion.

He was busy rummaging through a hoard of differently shaped and sized jars and vials when he suddenly noticed a little furry face staring up at him from next to his knees. He frowned. "I really don't have time for-." He stopped himself. If Minerva was here, then that meant…

Severus stood and spun on his heel, turning his back to the cat once more as he strode over to the now empty glass jar, seized it in his hands and swept over to his sink to clean the jar again. From the corner of his eye he saw Minerva glaring at him with open fury for abandoning her when she clearly had a craving for some more petting.

"I need to work," Severus said in a low but resolute voice. "I don't want to be the one to explain myself to Madam Pomfrey if the potion she asked me for is not on her desk by this evening."

_To be continued..._


	2. Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you guessed right! I got this idea from that famous Tumblr meme. I hope I did it justice. This second part focuses on bringing Minerva back to her senses. I must admit I had more fun with this chapter, although the first one probably turned out better.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! :)

Minerva McGonagall had never missed a meal in the Great Hall since she had moved back into Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore was certain he wasn't the only one aware of this fact as he took his seat at the Head Table at lunchtime and noticed his staff glancing constantly and with confused and curious faces at the empty seat next to the Headmaster. Albus wasn't concerned—his Deputy was a fiercely independent woman and any later enquiry into her whereabouts would more than likely lead to a sharp reminder from Minerva about how she was no longer Albus's student and could go about her life as she pleased. He wasn't concerned, that is, until he started listening to the collective conversation of his staff members that seemed to be concentrating on one topic and once topic only today.

"I caught her trying to steal a student's ball of yarn," Aurora Sinistra declared over the rim of her glass of pumpkin juice. "I found it quite inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?" Poppy tried to drop her fork without making too much noise. "It's as if she's lost all sense of propriety. She caught a mouse in my office today. I tried to tell her it-."

"You act as if that was a big deal," Rolanda interrupted her with her mouth full. "She tried to eat a Snitch! Have you ever heard of such a thing?" She took the time to stare each of her co-workers in the eye one after another—skipping the glowering Potions Master.

"Not since Golden Snidgets were replaced by Golden Snitches," Filius replied thoughtfully.

The Flying instructor shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Minerva McGonagall! The biggest Quidditch fan I have ever known—including myself. She wouldn't dream of _nibbling_ at a Snitch!" This statement earned her an agreeing hum from the rest of the staff table.

"I've always found Minerva rather charming as a cat," Albus intervened, feeling slightly guilty about listening to his staff talking behind his friend's back.

"That's because she likes you," Rolanda mentioned, since Pomona was not there to point out that Albus found his Deputy charming all the time.

"She was jus' fine with me an' Fang, she was," Hagrid added from his end of the table. "No trouble at all. We gave 'er a nice fish. Caught it meself this mornin' from the Great Lake." The latter earned him a withering glare from Poppy.

"Well, she'd better not come sneaking into my library," Irma Pince remarked bitterly, stabbing a carrot on her plate. "If I ever catch a _pet_ in the vicinity of my precious books, I will personally see to it that it won't be _able_ to return."

"Good thing Minerva's not a pet then," Septima Vector muttered to the two witches sitting closest to her. There was a moment of silence as the female half of the table tried to imagine Minerva McGonagall with a collar around her neck, sipping milk from a bowl next to the Headmaster's phoenix's perch. Rolanda Hooch couldn't keep herself from snickering.

"Do we know if she might be with professor Sprout?" Albus asked, fighting that very same image in his mind with a wry smile.

This time it was Poppy who shook her head. "Pomona told me that Minerva was getting high as a kite on her plants," she explained, being the only staff member present who had seen the Herbology professor since she left for her greenhouses, "so she had to throw her out." There was a beat of stunned silence at the Head Table.

" _Throw her out_?!" Rolanda repeated after choking on her pumpkin juice.

"I always thought Pomona should've been in Gryffindor," Aurora said thinly.

"Dear Merlin, she didn't hurt her, did she?" Filius piped up, excited.

"That's not possible," Charity mumbled against a forkful of mashed potatoes.

All in all, no one knew where their roguish Animagus colleague could be. Even the Potions Master, who had contented himself with listening to the conversation rather than participating, answered the Headmaster's enquiry with a stoical, "No idea, sir."

* * *

It wasn't until all the students and about half of the staff had already cleared out of the Great Hall that a loud and wailing meow carried through the room. It was Filius who noticed the cat first, and pointing at a long tapestry hung next to the Head Table, he said, "There!" All the staff members still present turned to look up and, lo and behold, there was Minerva, sitting on the brass rod that the tapestry was hung from, right below the point where the walls of the Great Hall transformed into the enchanted sky.

"How in Merlin's name did you get up there?" Rolanda wondered aloud, squinting her yellow eyes at the long tapestry.

"This is only a guess, of course," Severus commented dryly, "but it seems to me she could have climbed." This gained him a seething glare from the fearless Flying instructor.

"Has she been up there all this time?" Poppy asked gently and the cat meowed again, loud and impatient. "Shouldn't we try and get her down?" she asked her astonished colleagues.

Six pairs of eyes fixed instantly on the Charms professor. Filius gave a little yelp of surprise at suddenly being at the centre of attention. "Well, I wouldn't want to Levitate her down," he confessed lengthily. "If she gets agitated and starts fidgeting, I might drop her."

"I could raise ya up, profess'r, sir," their resident half-giant spoke up bashfully.

"Th-thank you, Hagrid," Filius replied, flustered, "but I don't think that would be high enough."

"I'm sure Argus has a ladder he could lend us," Albus suggested casually. The whole situation was rather amusing for him but he didn't want to take any chances with his Deputy's life—even if cats did have nine of them.

Rolanda pushed herself up from her seat. "I have get back to the Quidditch pitch anyway. I'll go and fetch him for you," she declared, stepping up close to the school matron on her way. "But afterwards I want to hear _all_ the details."

"I wouldn't settle for anything less," Poppy promised her conspiratorially.

* * *

In about ten minutes Argus Filch strutted into the Great Hall, carrying a long wooden ladder that shortly turned out to be quite rickety as well. The caretaker positioned the ladder against the wall, and it nearly reached the top of the tapestry. Looking around at the professors and finding no volunteers, he stepped back, puffed out his chest with pride and started climbing the ladder. After the first tentative steps Hagrid approached the ladder to hold it in place.

The group of teachers held their breaths while Argus climbed. Only Poppy pondered aloud, "What on Earth possessed you to get yourself up there?"

Once up the ladder and with his head nearly in the thin clouds of the Enchanted Ceiling, Argus reached out his arms towards the tabby with the intention of picking her up. "Come on now, professor," he coaxed her with a hint of the same tenderness with which he addressed his own cat. "Let's get you down from here and be done with it."

Minerva walked gracefully along the rod to the caretaker and sniffed his wrinkled hand. Her eyes flew open and she glowered at the man. Arching her back, she stepped backwards away from him.

Poppy's face fell. "What's the matter now?"

"Come over here, professor," Argus continued patiently, putting great effort into calling Minerva by her title and not a _kitty_. The tabby shook her head resolutely.

"If ya don't mind me sayin'," Hagrid offered from below the ladder, "could be she don't like the smell of Mrs. Norris on ya." Argus looked down at the Gamekeeper with an almost hurt expression and then questioningly at the Headmaster.

Albus appeared thoughtful for a moment before glancing around himself at his colleagues. "Perhaps," he suggested, "she would be more willing to come down with a friend of hers." Argus sighed with unexplained disappointment and started climbing down. Minerva watched, alert, as the teachers exchanged expectant looks.

"Not me," protested Poppy, waving her hands dismissively. "I'm not getting on that ladder, and as a nurse I don't advise anyone else to do it either."

There was a beat of silence as it became clear there weren't many candidates left in the hall. "Severus." The Potions Master tensed up the moment Albus spoke his name. "Would you be so kind as to bring Minerva down?"

"Sir…" he slowly began to protest.

"Why, yes," Filius agreed in a cheerful tone that could not quite mask his relief. "Severus is the youngest of us, and quite nimble on his feet, too."

Without moving his head, Severus's eyes glided from one of his colleagues' faces to the next, searching for any sign of someone's will to come to his rescue. No such luck. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and, feeling betrayed, muttered under his breath, "If Mr. Filch wasn't an agreeable saviour, what makes you think she will accept me?"

Nevertheless, he begrudgingly turned towards the ladder, effectively silencing Poppy's giggle with a fierce glare on his way. The ladder shook with each emphatically stiff and reluctant step he took. He noticed with a faint sense of contentment that Hagrid didn't dare look at him. He reached the top of the ladder sooner than he'd have liked, and in spite of himself, fixed Minerva with the same glare. The tabby growled at him aggressively. It seems she hadn't forgiven him yet for neglecting her earlier.

Wordlessly Severus balanced himself on the ladder and reached out with both hands to grab the cat under her front legs. Minerva hissed and squirmed in protest, almost causing the Potions Master to lose his footing. Frowning in determination, Severus pulled the cat against his chest and, holding her in place with one hand, started making his way down. Minerva's fiercely wagging tail shook the ladder and her piercing, angry hiss filled the Great Hall. Severus could almost feel the group below him holding their breath, watching him treat their Deputy Headmistress in a way no one else would ever have dared.

Half-way down, Severus's foot got stuck in his long robes and he stumbled slightly. As he instinctively pressed the tabby closer to himself, Minerva let out a startled croak and dug her claws into his shoulder. The Potions Master twitched at the acute sting of her dagger-like claws, untangled his foot and continued his decent with an even stormier expression than before on his face.

Once they were back to the safety of the floor, Minerva started struggling wildly in his arms and Severus, seeing no reason not to release her, dropped her willingly. Minerva landed soundlessly and dashed, fast as lightning, down the aisle between the long tables. Severus huffed silently in annoyance and Filius flicked his wand towards the end of the hall. The heavy oak doors fell closed and the tabby stopped in the middle of the aisle, staring helplessly at the sealed exit.

"Don't you think," Filius voiced what they were all thinking, "that this is not how Minerva would behave, Albus? I myself find this highly disturbing." He paused when the cat jumped onto the Hufflepuff table and started sniffing the students' dirty plates. "I think maybe someone put some kind of a spell on her."

The Headmaster nodded gravely. "Minerva," he tried to get the tabby's attention. "Minerva, dear, would you mind turning back into your human form for us?" he tried calmly. The cat looked up at him, flicked her ear and soon returned her attention to a half-eaten chicken leg. "I agree, there is a problem here," Albus concluded flatly.

* * *

About half an hour later the parties concerned regrouped in the Headmaster's office. Albus was sitting at his desk with a completely calm and contented tabby in his lap. Filius was fidgeting with his wand after researching his own brain for the best way to undo an unknown spell. Poppy had joined them, in her own words, to help in the unlikely case that Minerva would be hurt. In all honesty, however, she was there to keep her promise to the Flying instructor and oversee all the developments in this curious case. Once Severus entered the office, they were all set.

Under the watchful eye of his phoenix Albus stepped around the desk and placed the cat on the floor in the middle of the room. At once Minerva returned to him and started rubbing herself against his long robes.

"Perhaps it would help if she were to be turned back into a woman," Filius suggested, looking for his colleagues' support. Poppy nodded her approval. "Do you think you could do that, Albus?"

"I don't see why not," Albus replied with a confident lightness in his voice and drew out his wand. It wasn't easy to break an Animagus's magic, but as everyone knew, Albus was an expert in Transfiguration. He spoke an incantation and the tip of his wand crackled loudly, startling Fawkes, who chirped, as if reprimanding the old wizard for not warning him.

The tabby, on the other hand, shuddered violently and began to grow. An instant later she was back to her normal form, with her tight bun, emerald robes and all. And yet none of her colleagues could believe it was her. Instead of the usual piercing but kind gaze her eyes held a dreamy, mischievous look in them. Instead of her normal rigidity she moved with the lasting grace of a cat when she slid over to the Headmaster's side and nuzzled up against his shoulder. Her claw-like fingers tangled in Albus's long white beard when the stunned wizard placed his hand on her hunched back. No, this really couldn't be Minerva McGonagall—she was grinning!

"Somehow this is even worse," Filius said weakly.

"Much worse," Severus agreed in a disgusted tone.

"As much as I love and respect this woman," Albus commented, "even I feel this avid display of affection is extremely inappropriate." However, he didn't have the heart to push the witch away. "Perhaps now would be a good time, Severus," he mentioned instead.

The Potions Master nodded and stepped closer. Minerva's head snapped up and the look in her eyes changed. She glared wildly at the young wizard, intent on making him back down. But Severus had nothing against glowering at the witch himself—after all, she had dared to claw him. A tense silence fell over the office for a while as two of the most formidable professors at Hogwarts battled a staring contest. In the end it was Albus's chiding, "Severus, stop that," that made the Potions Master begrudgingly avert his eyes and rewarded Minerva with the impression that she had vanquished him on her own.

Now more than irritated by the witch's childish—or, to be fair, cattish—behaviour, Severus reached inside his robes and pulled out a small vial containing a silvery potion. Although he didn't really believe Minerva would, in her current state, accept the potion, he offered it to her. Instantly Minerva's hand shot towards his, and he pulled back with a pained and astonished grimace—Minerva had scratched him again.

Naturally, it took Severus but a moment to regain his composure and with it such a terrifying countenance that any lesser witch would have cowered away in fear. But the stubborn Minerva only hissed at him. Then everything happened very quickly.

With a swift movement Severus seized Minerva's wrist, preventing her from attacking him again. In an instant reaction to this assault, Minerva bowed forward to bite Severus's hand. Seeing this coming, Albus—the calm and gentle Albus—grabbed her chin, holding her back.

"Dumbledore!" Poppy exclaimed, scandalized.

Severus had stepped up close to the struggling Gryffindor and, as Albus forced her mouth open, he poured the silvery liquid over her lips.

"Stop it, both of you!" Poppy demanded, feeling miserable about the way the two wizards were handling her friend. Once they were sure Minerva had actually swallowed the potion, Albus and Severus stepped back from the witch, looking, in Poppy's opinion, less guilty than they ought to.

Minerva staggered on the spot, rubbing her wrist where the Potions Master had—really quite gently, considering the situation—grasped her and shaking her head in confusion. She took no notice of Filius stepping up to her until he had muttered a charm that froze her movements. After a few flicks of his wand and a few complicated incantations, Filius lowered his wand and they all stared in anxious anticipation at Minerva. For a long while she didn't even blink.

In a while Severus broke the silence, "I could always offer her a portion of Sleeping Draught in order to buy us some time to think of another solution."

He could barely finish before Minerva's legs gave out and the two taller wizards rushed forward to catch her. Weakly Minerva waved their help away as she found her footing again. Effortlessly Filius conjured up a chair behind her, just in case she would need to take a seat.

Suddenly alert, Minerva's eyes flicked from Filius's concerned face to Poppy's pale one, from Severus's serious face to Albus's relieved one. Drawing in a sharp breath, she slapped her hands to her own cheeks and whispered, "I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life."

The small group watched her in expectant silence as Minerva's face took on an unusually red colour and she squeezed her eyes shut in shame. They waited with bated breaths for her to explain herself, but Minerva was equally silent. She swayed on her feet and tumbled backwards into the chair Filius had conjured up for her. Her breath came in shuddering gasps, and for a long minute no one quite knew how to respond to the Gryffindor's vulnerable state.

"My dear," Albus finally prodded, "what happened to you?"

Minerva shook her head, burying her face in her hands. "I… I don't know," she confessed, her voice trembling. "I just… couldn't control myself at all." She peeked up at the tall wizard with wide frightened eyes. "It was as if I wasn't a witch any more… I was a cat."

Looking at the kind old wizard seemed to calm her because she lowered her hands, revealing her vivid blush. When she spoke again, her voice had nearly regained its normal steadiness, "And the worst part is I _enjoyed_ all these _outrageous_ things I did. It was terrible." She whispered the last part, averting her eyes again. It was uncanny how much she resembled a schoolgirl caught in a compromising position.

"Do you have any idea what might have caused it?" Filius was curious. If Minerva was able to tell him what sort of an enchantment had been used on her, he would know how accurately he had cured her of its effects. But the witch shook her head.

"Breakfast," Severus noted.

"Excuse me?" Poppy asked, raising an eyebrow at the man.

Severus glanced briefly at Minerva. "It started at breakfast," he declared flatly.

"Then perhaps something you ate?" Filius offered, failing to notice how Minerva's face fell.

"Or a potion," Albus added helpfully.

Minerva looked mortified. As if remembering something, her eyes widened again and she leaned forward in her chair. Staring at Severus, she whispered in a tone of urgent secretiveness, "That was your sausage, wasn't it?" A single severe nod from the Potions Master made her face turn even redder—if such a thing was possible.

"What are you on about?" Poppy pressed, exasperated.

"Nothing," Severus assured her levelly, and then turned to Albus. "If I may suggest, Headmaster, I think it likely that a student might be responsible. The little devils are known to sometimes come up with remarkably insufferable ways to torment their mentors."

"If this is the work of a student," Filius added eagerly, "I don't think we've heard the last of it yet."

Albus agreed with a nod, his eyes nailed to his Deputy. Minerva had just raised her fingertips to her mouth with an anxious expression. "Are you feeling quite well, my dear?" He registered her failure to reprimand him for calling her his _dear_ more often than was necessary.

"Oh, I'm just fine," she was quick to reply, "but, Filius, I just remembered—you might want to get yourself a new set of feathers for the next time you're teaching the Levitation Charm." Filius raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I may have… damaged a few of them," Minerva confessed sheepishly.

The other witch snorted with laughter.

"And Severus," Minerva continued before she could stop herself. "I'm so sorry for… you know." She looked down at her lap, both ashamed and annoyed at herself. She had stepped into the trap herself and now she would have to answer to a herd of chatterbox witches who would want to know the Potions Master's exact relationship towards a certain cat. Naturally, she wasn't just referring to her frightful insolence at the breakfast table—much more than for that unfortunate incident she wanted to apologise for ambushing him in his office the way she had. But then again, even now she couldn't deny that the Potions Master's touch had been unduly and unexpectedly gentle and even enjoyable.

"I'll live." Severus's tone was as apathetic as ever; Minerva could almost hear the sneer in his voice. "It wasn't a… completely unpleasant experience."

Minerva could hardly believe he had admitted to taking pleasure in petting her. A firm grip of five long fingers on her shoulder told her that Poppy had reached a similar state of disbelief and would interrogate her later on until she revealed all the details of her rendezvous with the young wizard. She would have to come up with a plausible fib or two before that time.

In order to change the subject, Minerva turned to look at Fawkes, who was closely observing her with his beady eyes. "I think I traumatized Fang," she mentioned thinly. The large bird nodded his head, as if sensing and accepting the unspoken apology directed towards him as well.

"And the next time you see Rolanda," she turned to address the witch standing next to her, knowing she would do that sooner rather than later, "tell her Snitches taste awful."

* * *

As it so often happens, the perceptive Charms professor was right. This new trick really didn't stop with the baffled Head of Gryffindor. The next two weeks would bring them Madam Hooch climbing up the Grand Staircase on all fours, Argus Filch trying to scratch his ear with his foot, Irma Pince hissing at various students—which, come to think of it, was hardly unusual—and many more peculiar sights.

Any attempts to find the culprit of these disgraceful but so often hopelessly amusing incidents were made in vain. One day at lunch the Weasley twins even stood up on their seats and announced their respect to whoever had enhanced their originally harmless jinx. This had earned them the loss of thirty house points but the grinning pair of redheads could hardly be bothered by it. Minerva had an uncanny feeling that the Slytherin table seemed unusually delighted about the Weasleys' declaration. However, any suspicions she had harboured were erased the day a certain dishevelled Potions Master appeared in her office, waving his arms up and down wildly.

"This is far from funny, Minerva," he hissed when he noticed the amused grin the Gryffindor was desperately trying to restrain. "And you'd better help me before I start navigating with my voice."

_The End_


End file.
